Way, way back in 2008, I had a friend who insisted I watch Fox's discontinued series, Firefly. I refused. "Dave, the show is awesome. You'll totally love it!"
"No thanks. I don't like Star Wars or Star Trek. Space TV shows suck. Not my thing," I said, absolutely confident that I had the show pegged.
Of course, I unknowingly rented Serenity, the movie based off Firefly, and loved it. Loved it so much, in fact, that I watched the special features and learned of the Firefly connection. Then I watched Firefly, and fell in love with the show.
Then, a year later, in 2009, I mentioned this to another friend of mine, and she told me in response that I should watch Dr. Horrible's Singalong Blog. Once again, I shook my head.
"No thanks. I'm not a big fan of musicals, and I think the Neil Patrick Harris love is kind of overrated."
And, once again, I ate my words.
2010 rolled around, and another friend was amazed I hadn't seen the IT Crowd, and that I had to watch it - after all, it was pretty much the UK version of The Big Bang Theory, a show I absolutely love.
"No thanks. I'm not big on British Comedy for the most part, and shows about Nerds aren't really my thing."
My words were eaten again.
Flash forward to most of 2011, when that friend from 2008 told me I had to watch AMC's The Walking Dead - that it was a show right up my alley. And, still having not learned my lesson, I shrugged and said,
"No thanks. I've never liked Zombie movies."
Then I watched an episode (it was on in the background) and fell in love. I watched the entire series in one day. And have become thoroughly addicted to the show.
I've also realized I need to listen to my friends when they offer recommendations. This is a big revelation for me... but it also means that now I've got a LOT of TV to catch up on. The entire Buffy the Vampire Slayer series, for example. Dollhouse. Various incarnations of Dr. Who. And perhaps most frighteningly, Lost.
I have a feeling I'll have a lot of work cut out for me in 2012.
Showing posts with label tv. Show all posts
Showing posts with label tv. Show all posts
The transition
Well, the trials and tribulations of insomnia are (mostly) over! By this I mean that I'm getting at least four hours of sleep a night, and I'm not lying in bed wide awake most nights. This is a very good thing; there's nothing worse than being awake on your couch watching TV during the transition from "late night" TV to "early morning" TV.
Poker After Dark is not a good segue into Dora the Explorer. Remember that.
Poker After Dark is not a good segue into Dora the Explorer. Remember that.
Recipe for Absolute Happiness:
Here it is, ladies and gents. CrazyNewt's recipe for Absolute Happiness.
Ingredients
Ingredients
- Firefly TV series, on DVD or Blue Ray.
- Big Screen TV with DVD/Blue-Ray Player
- Noodle Box Black Bean with Garlic Noodles (spice to taste)
- Couch
- Blanket
- Pants
- Tazo Green Chai tea
- Put the DVD/Blue-Ray into the appropriate player. Turn on TV, and begin playing an episode of your choice (they're all good).
- Take off the pants, and kick them across the room.
- Wrap yourself in the blanket while sitting on the couch and watching the episode of Firefly.
- Eat noodles and drink tea while viewing.
- Repeat at least once a month.
Whoa...
Okay. You have to check this site out.
It's a game of Twenty Questions - you pick something, and the computer tries to guess who you are. It didn't guess Firefly's Mal Reynolds in less than twenty questions (it took 21), but it did guess Futurama's Bender in nineteen. It took 26 to find Lionel Hutz, attorney at law, and it didn't guess BladeRunner at all.
Seriously, it's a lot of fun!
It's a game of Twenty Questions - you pick something, and the computer tries to guess who you are. It didn't guess Firefly's Mal Reynolds in less than twenty questions (it took 21), but it did guess Futurama's Bender in nineteen. It took 26 to find Lionel Hutz, attorney at law, and it didn't guess BladeRunner at all.
Seriously, it's a lot of fun!
Another Axe to the face
Addiction.
It comes in many forms. For some, it involves lonely nights, abusing the drug of your choice. For others, it consists of lighting a cigarrette from the ashes of another cigarrette. And for others, it is compulsive, self-destructive behaviour.
Some people have addictive personalities, and while the mechanics of addiction vary from person to person, the underlying cause is the same. Often they find themselves heating up their junk, cooking it in a spoon over a flickering flame. Or binge-eating ice cream. Or staring in your twisted reflection of a ladle and wondering how you got there.
A lot of addicts seem to gravitate towards the spoon, for some reason. But I digress. The point is, there are addicts out there, and many of them are ordinary people. And I know this, because I am one of them.
At around five p.m. on friday, yesterday, I picked up Season Five of How I Met Your Mother. I have been watching it since I got home, at around seven p.m. This was six and a half hours ago.
Sure, I'm not reenacting a scene from Pulp Fiction with my habit, but the fact is, every time an episode ends, I find myself saying "one more episode, then I'll finish cleaning my apartment". And at the end of every episode, I look at myself in the reflection of my TV screen, and wonder just what the hell I'm doing with my life.
And I remember last year, when I made a very similar post to this one.
And I quote:
And there's not a single clean spoon in the house.
It comes in many forms. For some, it involves lonely nights, abusing the drug of your choice. For others, it consists of lighting a cigarrette from the ashes of another cigarrette. And for others, it is compulsive, self-destructive behaviour.
Some people have addictive personalities, and while the mechanics of addiction vary from person to person, the underlying cause is the same. Often they find themselves heating up their junk, cooking it in a spoon over a flickering flame. Or binge-eating ice cream. Or staring in your twisted reflection of a ladle and wondering how you got there.
A lot of addicts seem to gravitate towards the spoon, for some reason. But I digress. The point is, there are addicts out there, and many of them are ordinary people. And I know this, because I am one of them.
At around five p.m. on friday, yesterday, I picked up Season Five of How I Met Your Mother. I have been watching it since I got home, at around seven p.m. This was six and a half hours ago.
Sure, I'm not reenacting a scene from Pulp Fiction with my habit, but the fact is, every time an episode ends, I find myself saying "one more episode, then I'll finish cleaning my apartment". And at the end of every episode, I look at myself in the reflection of my TV screen, and wonder just what the hell I'm doing with my life.
And I remember last year, when I made a very similar post to this one.
And I quote:
Unfortunately, I got home at around 5:30, and then realized just how addictive that TV show is. There were some 22 episodes... twenty minutes each. And I did something I've never done before, and will never do again.
I watched all of them. Some seven, eight hours of a TV show. I finally saw what happens with the goat, one of the most sappy romantic scenes ever, and the coolness that is SVEN. Afterwards, I was tired. Beaten. And I felt dirty. Soiled, somehow.Emphasis added. I made that post almost a year ago to the day. And now, a year later, and the cycle continues. I'm tired, bleary-eyed, and beaten. I feel dirty.
And there's not a single clean spoon in the house.
Music Mondays - Any way the wind blows...
...
...
(Crap! I think they're out there!)
(What do they want?)
(A post, I imagine....)
(Like, a full post?)
(Yeah, I think so.)
(Don't they realize you're a busy guy?)
(I don't know)
(And very, very important?)
(I have no idea)
(Don't they know you have better things to do, than to entertain them with your amazing wit?)
(I haven't the foggiest)
(The philistines!)
(So. What should I do?)
(Um. Take the easy way out and post a link to something silly?)
(I couldn't do that to them. It's so lame and unoriginal)
(Well, then, I guess you'll just have to buckle down and post something then, eh?)
(Hm.)
Hey, ladies and gents! I was strolling around the internet, and saw this amazing video. After seeing it, I just knew I had to share. You see, it's a very, um... uh....
HEY, LOOK!
(*runs away*)
...
(Crap! I think they're out there!)
(What do they want?)
(A post, I imagine....)
(Like, a full post?)
(Yeah, I think so.)
(Don't they realize you're a busy guy?)
(I don't know)
(And very, very important?)
(I have no idea)
(Don't they know you have better things to do, than to entertain them with your amazing wit?)
(I haven't the foggiest)
(The philistines!)
(So. What should I do?)
(Um. Take the easy way out and post a link to something silly?)
(I couldn't do that to them. It's so lame and unoriginal)
(Well, then, I guess you'll just have to buckle down and post something then, eh?)
(Hm.)
Hey, ladies and gents! I was strolling around the internet, and saw this amazing video. After seeing it, I just knew I had to share. You see, it's a very, um... uh....
HEY, LOOK!
(*runs away*)
Supermodels vs. Bear
As a part-time insomniac, I am required by law to occasionally get super sleep-deprived and make poor decisions. This is the reason I own movies like Alexander and The Ringer... in my sleep-addled state, I looked at those films and said "how can they go wrong!?"
However, despite some of the problems that come from sleep-addled declarations, often I stumble across ingenius little ideas that are destined to turn me into a millionaire. Enter the newest idea for a reality TV series...
Here's the idea. Every episode, we put a specially-picked dream team of aspiring supermodels picked up off the streets of Los Angeles. These women, thankful to put their low-grade porn days behind them, wish to win the big prize - some sort of crappy modelling job where they get to wear shiny clothes and get photos taken of them. I don't fully understand how to entice model-folk, but I imagine their attraction to clothes is sort of similar to a magpie's attraction to shiny objects.
How do they win that prize? Well, the team of models have to defeat a trained Grizzly Bear in a no-holds-barred cage match, Mixed-Martial-Arts style. If the women can pummel that bear into submission, then the prettiest (alive) woman at the end gets the modelling contract. Of course, it's not as easy as it sounds. Because, see, we don't feed that Grizzly Bear for a few days before the bout. Also, models killed that bear's mother and wore her skin, so it's kind of got a personal vendetta thing going on towards models.
This is gonna be a great show. The women get to see reality TV, models competing against one another, hair, and clothes. And then men get to see a Bear tearing the shit out of hot girls. Really, it doesn't matter who wins in the end - the way I see it, it's a win-win situation.
However, despite some of the problems that come from sleep-addled declarations, often I stumble across ingenius little ideas that are destined to turn me into a millionaire. Enter the newest idea for a reality TV series...
Supermodels vs. Bear
How do they win that prize? Well, the team of models have to defeat a trained Grizzly Bear in a no-holds-barred cage match, Mixed-Martial-Arts style. If the women can pummel that bear into submission, then the prettiest (alive) woman at the end gets the modelling contract. Of course, it's not as easy as it sounds. Because, see, we don't feed that Grizzly Bear for a few days before the bout. Also, models killed that bear's mother and wore her skin, so it's kind of got a personal vendetta thing going on towards models.
This is gonna be a great show. The women get to see reality TV, models competing against one another, hair, and clothes. And then men get to see a Bear tearing the shit out of hot girls. Really, it doesn't matter who wins in the end - the way I see it, it's a win-win situation.
Okay, I'm just gonna say it...
It's very simple. Commercials in which food talks about how fun it is to be eaten.
You know the ones I'm talking about. A bunch of cows are talking about how great it will be to cut into pieces and devoured. Or chickens driving around and pretending they're other chickens or something. Or dumb little commercials where talking carrots shout "I'm high in Riboflavin!"
Wait. Are carrots high in Riboflavin?
Wait. What's Riboflavin?
The point is, I'm sick and tired of these commercials. Your food does not want to be eaten. If they had their way, they'd be eating you. But just because we're on the top of the food chain, keeping our vegetables and proteins down lest they rise up and devour us all, it doesn't mean we need to rub it in their face. I mean, do we often tell the French how much better we are? How they are a poor excuse for a country that no one cares about?
No. And you know why? Because we're awesome, that's why.
I think it's because we eat so many carrots.
You know the ones I'm talking about. A bunch of cows are talking about how great it will be to cut into pieces and devoured. Or chickens driving around and pretending they're other chickens or something. Or dumb little commercials where talking carrots shout "I'm high in Riboflavin!"
Wait. Are carrots high in Riboflavin?
Wait. What's Riboflavin?
The point is, I'm sick and tired of these commercials. Your food does not want to be eaten. If they had their way, they'd be eating you. But just because we're on the top of the food chain, keeping our vegetables and proteins down lest they rise up and devour us all, it doesn't mean we need to rub it in their face. I mean, do we often tell the French how much better we are? How they are a poor excuse for a country that no one cares about?
No. And you know why? Because we're awesome, that's why.
I think it's because we eat so many carrots.
I am a juvenile little man...
I make no secret of it. I am a juvenile little man.
Which is why I love these commercials. I realize I'm coming to this a little late, but hey, better late than never, right? And there's just so much to love. I mean, they have everything. Stupid babies? Check. Vomit jokes? Check. Singing? Check. Golf? Check ("Shankopotamus" is the best new word ever!) A guy that reminds me of most of the people I went to high school with? Check.
Moral of the story? Um.
There probably isn't one.
Which is why I love these commercials. I realize I'm coming to this a little late, but hey, better late than never, right? And there's just so much to love. I mean, they have everything. Stupid babies? Check. Vomit jokes? Check. Singing? Check. Golf? Check ("Shankopotamus" is the best new word ever!) A guy that reminds me of most of the people I went to high school with? Check.
Moral of the story? Um.
There probably isn't one.
I'm watching MSNBC, which is one of the most infuriatingly biased news channels out there. But i had to watch - there was a documentary on the Reena Virk murder, and, like any other self-obsessed Victorian, I like watching others discuss my hometown... even its darker side.
I hate the guy that presents it, though I can't remember his name. The whole narration seems like it's aimed towards retarded children. And watching him interview people is painful.
The part that surprised me about it all is that the murder happened only a few blocks away - on the craigflower bridge. Which, to the best of my knowledge, has no plaque or anything indicating the event. Which bugs me.
The rest of the program just goes downhill from there. Guh.
I hate the guy that presents it, though I can't remember his name. The whole narration seems like it's aimed towards retarded children. And watching him interview people is painful.
The part that surprised me about it all is that the murder happened only a few blocks away - on the craigflower bridge. Which, to the best of my knowledge, has no plaque or anything indicating the event. Which bugs me.
The rest of the program just goes downhill from there. Guh.
A Long Road...
There have been some weird commercials out there. And some that are just plain creepy. But when I saw this one on TV, my jaw dropped. This is the commercial that nightmares are made of - animals torn in half on a dark road, facing their mortality. And then the car that is about to kill another animal gets good tires, and all the road kill critters get up and dance (with tire tracks on their bodies).
I told some friends about this awhile ago, and they didn't believe me. Well, here it is - the weirdest commercial on TV right now. Strange stuff.
CSI
A few years back, I was in a physical anthropology class. It was a class dedicated to human biology, and the cultural and evolutionary adaptations brought on by human physiology. However, it was also pretty much a prerequisite for anyone wanting to enter the Criminology program. A large chunk of the class involved identifying human remains, using actual human skeletons. In short, it was a lot of fun.
The professor was a forensic anthropologist specializing in bones (yeah, this was before that 'bones' show came out), and she had a lot of police ties. And one day, she called in two cops.
They started talking about crime scene assessment. Early on, one of the cops asks, "So, who among you have ever watched the TV show CSI?"
Maybe three hands, in a class over forty large, are raised. He shakes his head. "Come on."
The professor sheepishly raises her hand. So does most of the class.
"Good. That's more like it. Now, how much of that show do you think is accurate?"
A few people in the class guess. Forty percent? Sixty percent? People discuss all the inaccuracies they know about the TV show - DNA sampling isn't done so quickly, forensic anthropologists do not perform suspect interviews or carry firearms, there's no nation-wide program of fingerprints, etc. The cop nods at each point, and then cuts in.
"Forty percent? Sure, sure," the cop says, turning to smile at his partner. Then he turns to face the class.
"I don't know about you... but the first thing *I* do on the crime scene is turn on the fucking light."
The professor was a forensic anthropologist specializing in bones (yeah, this was before that 'bones' show came out), and she had a lot of police ties. And one day, she called in two cops.
They started talking about crime scene assessment. Early on, one of the cops asks, "So, who among you have ever watched the TV show CSI?"
Maybe three hands, in a class over forty large, are raised. He shakes his head. "Come on."
The professor sheepishly raises her hand. So does most of the class.
"Good. That's more like it. Now, how much of that show do you think is accurate?"
A few people in the class guess. Forty percent? Sixty percent? People discuss all the inaccuracies they know about the TV show - DNA sampling isn't done so quickly, forensic anthropologists do not perform suspect interviews or carry firearms, there's no nation-wide program of fingerprints, etc. The cop nods at each point, and then cuts in.
"Forty percent? Sure, sure," the cop says, turning to smile at his partner. Then he turns to face the class.
"I don't know about you... but the first thing *I* do on the crime scene is turn on the fucking light."
Comedy gold here. Especially if you're a paramedic or a police officer, I think.
http://www.manofest.com/Content/the-10-funniest-duis-caught-on-camera.html
http://www.manofest.com/Content/the-10-funniest-duis-caught-on-camera/Page-2.html
Some are from TV shows, but most are real DUI's caught on video. Absolutely unbelievable stuff.
http://www.manofest.com/Content/the-10-funniest-duis-caught-on-camera.html
http://www.manofest.com/Content/the-10-funniest-duis-caught-on-camera/Page-2.html
Some are from TV shows, but most are real DUI's caught on video. Absolutely unbelievable stuff.
No Axe in MY face, thankyouverymuch!
Yesterday, I did something a little stupid. I went for a walk.
I wound up in the mall, chomping on curly fries from Arby's (sooo good!). And, as usual on these trips, I found myself in HMV, looking at DVDs. I really meant to just "look", and when I saw that How I Met Your Mother, Season Four had just come out, I calmly told myself that I can wait for a few months before getting it.
Then in came a man I shall refer to as "B.". B. is one of those people who is quiet, nice, and far too clingy. I know him because an old friend of mine introduced us while waiting for the bus. That's it. And, because of that introduction, everytime I see B., he talks to me. Asks me how I am. And tries to hang out with me.
Basically, the guy is looking for friends. And I do feel bad for the guy. But, I don't really like him... and I'm not responsible for everyone else in the world. So, I'm polite, but when he tries to arrange chances to "hang out" or whatever, I make up a lie, and leave. Because, let's be honest... psycho killer stories usually start with the poor victim taking pity on an unfortunate, shy person with eyes that never blink.
I don't want an axe in my face, thank you very much.
So, he starts talking to me. "what are you up to? What sort of plans do you have?" and so on, and so forth. I know if I say "well, I'm just bored and walking around" I'll have a new hanger-on for the next three hours until I can work up a clever way to shake him off. Instead, I grab the DVD and say "oh, here it is! I've been looking for this. Gonna buy it and watch it at a friend's house!"
Before he can try to invite himself over, I dash to the teller, buy the DVD, and hi-tail it out of there. I console myself with the fact that I was going to buy the DVD eventually, so it's not really an awful purchase.
Unfortunately, I got home at around 5:30, and then realized just how addictive that TV show is. There were some 22 episodes... twenty minutes each. And I did something I've never done before, and will never do again.
I watched all of them. Some seven, eight hours of a TV show. I finally saw what happens with the goat, one of the most sappy romantic scenes ever, and the coolness that is SVEN. Afterwards, I was tired. Beaten. And I felt dirty. Soiled, somehow.
On the plus side, my face is still axe-free.
I wound up in the mall, chomping on curly fries from Arby's (sooo good!). And, as usual on these trips, I found myself in HMV, looking at DVDs. I really meant to just "look", and when I saw that How I Met Your Mother, Season Four had just come out, I calmly told myself that I can wait for a few months before getting it.
Then in came a man I shall refer to as "B.". B. is one of those people who is quiet, nice, and far too clingy. I know him because an old friend of mine introduced us while waiting for the bus. That's it. And, because of that introduction, everytime I see B., he talks to me. Asks me how I am. And tries to hang out with me.
Basically, the guy is looking for friends. And I do feel bad for the guy. But, I don't really like him... and I'm not responsible for everyone else in the world. So, I'm polite, but when he tries to arrange chances to "hang out" or whatever, I make up a lie, and leave. Because, let's be honest... psycho killer stories usually start with the poor victim taking pity on an unfortunate, shy person with eyes that never blink.
I don't want an axe in my face, thank you very much.
So, he starts talking to me. "what are you up to? What sort of plans do you have?" and so on, and so forth. I know if I say "well, I'm just bored and walking around" I'll have a new hanger-on for the next three hours until I can work up a clever way to shake him off. Instead, I grab the DVD and say "oh, here it is! I've been looking for this. Gonna buy it and watch it at a friend's house!"
Before he can try to invite himself over, I dash to the teller, buy the DVD, and hi-tail it out of there. I console myself with the fact that I was going to buy the DVD eventually, so it's not really an awful purchase.
Unfortunately, I got home at around 5:30, and then realized just how addictive that TV show is. There were some 22 episodes... twenty minutes each. And I did something I've never done before, and will never do again.
I watched all of them. Some seven, eight hours of a TV show. I finally saw what happens with the goat, one of the most sappy romantic scenes ever, and the coolness that is SVEN. Afterwards, I was tired. Beaten. And I felt dirty. Soiled, somehow.
On the plus side, my face is still axe-free.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Posts
